Any Means Necessary
by cokoa
Summary: Decades have passed since the Blood Wars, and the many kingdoms involved are slowly but surely beginning to flourish once again. In Hogwarts, a school for young nobles from all realms, the mischievous Malfoy heir and the fiery Weasley princess meet and….. clash terribly.
1. Caledonia

I was born into a recovering world. The Blood Wars nearly a decade before my birth were slow, but savage. Kingdoms from all across the land were grouped together and pit against one another. Wreaking havoc and bloodshed in abundance on both sides.

It began with the Dark Lord; a powerful, charismatic and profoundly wicked wizard, that went realm to realm, spreading corrupted propaganda towards non-magical folk.

Caledonia, my cold, but majestic territory, was unfortunately one of the major antagonists in the gruesome affair. At the time, we were one of the very few kingdoms whose population was still exclusive to wizards and witches. Old, and proudly pure, we were quick and loyal advocates to the Dark Lords cause, allowing him to make a headquarter of our rich and heavily fortified home.

In the end, it was my grandmother, and her love for her people that drove her away from the cause. She betrayed the Dark Lord in a dangerous ploy to get her son and her people out of the war zone. The deception lead to the freedom of the "Chosen King" Harry, and his eventual success in the final deciding Battle of Hogwarts.

Following the Battle, the Kingdom of Caledonia and the Malfoy royal family were cleared of war crimes but became outcasts on both sides. Traitors from the pure blooded advocates of old, and untrusted moral-less authoritarians from the new, more liberal lands.

My grandparents, aged with loss and hardship, closed off from the world; rebuilding and revolutionising from the inside. Focusing on restoring relationships with the people and eradicating the hateful pureblooded views that had almost destroyed them. They brought about a time of change, tolerance and acceptance. And once their people were fed and happy and enlightened, they stepped aside to my father, to carry on reviving the empire.

The realm burst with excitement and celebration at my birth. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, first of his name, heir to the Caledonian throne; loved and cherished by his people and his family. Born into a kingdom that was peaceful and prospering, regardless that it was still detached, and isolated from the outside world. But my father was making strides to reconnect and rebuild those broken international relations.

My parents knew the best thing for me, and for our people, was to send me to "Hallowed Order Grace: Wizarding Academia, Royal Teaching Society", or….. Hogwarts for short. A school older then any archaic royal family or ancient empire, unbiased and open to all young witches and wizards of royal blood. Hogwarts is a place not only to be educated, but also a place with massive networking opportunities. Young adolescent lords and ladies from around the world come to a place where their titles are, for once, meaningless. Friendships are made that last through life, relationships are built that lead to the creation of new nations, and hatred is founded that sometimes can be carried throughout generations. It was there that my once young grandfather, met the youngest child of the Black Royal Family, from Grimmaulda.

Although, my parents would always try to keep me from burden, I knew that I had a responsibility to rebuild lost relations between many of the surrounding nations by charming the socks of their youth.

* * *

"Scorpius! Our guests will be here soon! It's time to stop playing with Marko and Selene. Come out and get ready this instant!"

Mother was furious. She would rarely yell at me to begin with, and with the magnitude of servants and court members running around, she must be absolutely seething to break her natural, reserved grace.

Looking at the two next to me, I can just tell Selene is going to give up our location. Her muggle family clearly did not raise her with the same mischievous spirit that seemed to be practically inherits for Marko and I. Her olive skin is paling, her almond eyes filling with tears and I can almost hear the internal prayers in fear of Queen Astoria's wrath.

Marko and I share a look, quickly game planning with an exchange of smirks, head bobs, eyebrow lifts and quiet snickers. Simultaneously, we take each of Selene's hands, and bust from under the table. Running through a flurry of servers, and maids, of officers and pages, of high ladies and soldiers. We sprint through the grand hall, too pumped full of adrenaline to notice faces or voices.

Feeling exuberant, I see the corner up ahead; freedom to the garden is almost mine. The rain has left the fields muddy and wet and ready to be played in, and I'm so close I can almost feel it.

In an instant, my dreams are shattered, as from behind, a broad, strong hand lifts me up by the collar of my shirt. I look up to find my fathers piercing grey eyes stare down at me. Next to him, my uncle Blaise is holding his son by the ear, and Selene looks just about ready to have a panic attack.

"Shit" I say without thinking.

My fathers eyes bulge at the word, and I try, desperately, to think of a way out of this situation. "Scorpius! Where in circe's name did a nine year old pick up such foul language?"

And then it comes to me. "Oh well Father," I say, as innocently as I can, "You say the word all the time, I didn't realise it was a bad word."

Next to us, my uncle breaks into a fit of laughter and the brooding, unyielding look in my fathers eyes makes way for worry. "Well, how about this Son. How about we agree to not bring that up to your mother, and i'll make sure that she doesn't get too mad at you for ignoring her calls and making a mess of the Grand Hall. But we must leave now, or even I won't be able sweet talk us out of trouble"

Without another word, and very little effort, I am slung over his shoulder. I sigh in defeat and watch with disdain as my friends laugh at me with sick delight. I think about pushing them into lakes and muddy fields to comfort me as I go towards the torture that is my mother before a ball.

* * *

 _✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧_

 _hello! welcome to my first fic!_

 _i am a big fan of royal au. but haven't ever really found on for my otp so thus for any means was made._

 _i originally have this posted on ao3, but thought I would put it on here as well, since there is where I keep track of most of other ff._

 _please let me know if so far you like it, hate it, don't really know about it, don't really understand it idk just give me something to go on hahaha._

 _notes: caledonian is the latin name given to scotland by the romans, and since i always imagined the malfoy manor in scotland, that is where the kingdom name came about. (please don't expect it all to be geographical or historically accurate in anyway haha)_

 _okay cool yeah well ily cokoa_

 _ﾟ･:*｡(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~｡*:･ﾟ_


	2. The Embassy Ball

Albus and I had fallen asleep together again. Gangly legs kicked me in the middle of the night, and I was abruptly awoken to the sight of him drooling on my hand embroidered cushion from Nanna Weasley.

Anxious and excited about the upcoming Caledonian Embassy Ball, we must have lost track of time talking. Thinking back, we completely forgot to go down to the dining hall for dinner.

After a few restless moments, I decide that my bed hogging cousin and empty stomach will probably keep me from getting any more rest. So reaching blindly into the dark, I grab my robe and the first pair of mismatched socks I can find and make my way down to the kitchens.

Gahdrik Castle always felt it's most magical at night. Seated on the shores of the Western Channel; at night, the sky would dance on the waves, and reflect starlight through the expansive windows that lined the castle walls. When the sky was clear, and the moon was full, Aunt Ginny would always insist the lights stay off unless absolutely necessary. She would say that life is pointless if you rush through it without noticing the little things- like the beauty of moonlight.

I start to make my way through the grand hallways, when I see the lights in my parents rooms are still lit. Knowing my father to never turn down a chance to raid the kitchens, I make a quick detour towards them.

The doors slightly ajar, I hear that my Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny are inside the drawing room, but I know not to be surprised regardless of how late in the night it was.

After Uncle Harry reclaimed his throne from his uncle, the cruel Lord Regent Dudley, the first thing he had done was to ask my father and mother to be General Commander and King's Council, respectively. It was because of this our family lived in Gahdrik, instead of in Wisulon, just south of us, where the Weasley family have ruled for centuries.

Of course, we still see our extensive Weasley family often, the lands so close we all are constantly apparateing and flooing back and forth. But, my home has always been in Gahdrik, where my parents serve the King and Queen with zeal and loyalty. And because of that, you often would find the four adults, late at night, talking tactics and produces or, most of the time, simply enjoying each others company.

I announce myself with a quiet knock, and a quick bow of my head, "I wasn't able to sleep.."

"Was it my son or your stomach?" My aunt replies with a soft smile "We had noticed you two were strangely absent from dinner tonight."

"It was a mix of Al's long legs and my loud stomach, yes". The response earns me a small laugh, and I can't help but smile as my tall, lean father stands and makes his way over to me.

"Well, we can't let you starve now."

.

"What mischievousness were you and Al up too tonight that kept you so busy?" Father asks as we dig into a punnet of ice cream.

"We were just talking about the ball. I've never been to Caledonia, but Victorie says it's very fancy. James was saying that it's way fancier then us. And then Freddy said they won't let Albus and I in. But Molly said not to listen to the boys because they're tossers. But when I asked what a tosser was, Louis said that it means they'll be the ones that toss us out of the ball because we're not fancy enough, but that doesn't make sense, and I just didn't think Uncle Bill would let Louis toss us you know?"

Dad nearly choked on his spoon, apparently my confusion and horror was hilarious because he was having a bloody fit. "Next time that lot say something like that, you should just kick their leg in." I tuck the silent permission for violence away for later use.

"So they aren't fancier then we are, and won't toss us?"

"Of course not," he replies with a smile, "Well, they definitely won't toss you, I hope. To be honest, no one really knows what the kingdom is like anymore. Caledonia used to be a really bad place before the war, but in the end, if it wasn't for their last Queen, I don't think we would've won. I think the war really woke them. After it, they sorta disappeared, and just focused on rebuilding, but recently, since Draco became king, they've started to reopen their walls, and have been doing some really cool stuff."

"Stuff like what?"

"Well, they've built strong relationships with the Eastern Muggle Colonies, welcoming a lot of them into their kingdom. Have sent embassy representation to the United Kingdoms Alliance, and now they're holding a ball. Welcoming people from all over to come and see this new side of them. It's important to note, Rosie, growing up, you know we Weasleys never had a lot of money. Your Nana and Papa, put all of their money towards helping the people- both within Wisulon and afar. The Malfoy family, they were the complete opposite. Priding themselves on being rich and pure and absolute snobs, so to see such a drastic change in such a sort amount of time, it's a little unbelievable. But I guess we will have to see for ourselves next week hey?"

* * *

I met the Queen first, as she conversed with my mother upon arrival. Queen Astoria, was regal in appearance, but kind in interaction. The green of her gown looked enchanting against her pale skin, and the silver embroidery stitched through the collar and skirt brought out the blue of her eyes. On her head, her black hair was braided around a silver tiara. The pear shaped emeralds, hanging inside their diamond arches, reflected the light with her every movement. She was a shocking contrast to my mother beside her, who wore a rich navy gown, low off her shoulder and stunning against her copper skin. Her tight chestnut curls hanging freely against her bare collar, with a simple gold set headband of pendant rubies placed on her crown, hanging slightly over her forehead.

As I make my way around the lavish ballroom, looking for Al, I spot my father and uncle Harry shaking hands with King Draco across the room. Stocky and slender, with broad shoulders and a pronounced jaw, King Draco is the picture of refined, polished grace. Although, even from where I stand, he has a kindness in his eyes not unlike his wife's.

Out of nowhere, my train of thought is completely derailed, as someone barges into me from behind, pushing me swiftly down to all fours. I look up behind me, to see the back of a blonde head; the owner of said head seeming completely oblivious to the fact that they had just run backwards into me. A handsome, dark skinned boy my age, quickly follows behind him. His amber eyes, full of life, meet mine on the floor. Only then did my rude attacker, deem me worthy to notice.

Turning around with his nose pushed into the air in the most contrived way i've ever seen, he looks down at me with confusion, and instead of apologising or trying to help me up, he turns to address his companion. "Is this how people greet royalty in Gahdrik? I haven't seen anyone do this to Father..."

Seeing red, I finally snap out of my flustered daze, and push myself up to my legs. "No, you daft idiot, you just ran back into me and all but shoved me down into the ground."

I stare at him point blank as he just processes what I said. From the messy platinum hair and the tall frame, Prince Scorpius Malfoy was a shrunken version of his father. Almost identical, excluding his chubby cheeks and his curious piercing blue eyes.

Realising immediately who he was, I could hear the logical part of my brain telling me it was foolish to call the young heir a "daft idiot" before even introducing myself, but the louder, more ardent part of my brain told the other part to shut up.

"You can't call me that, you don't even know me" He sneered, eyes narrowing.

"You're right, I don't know you. But I do know the floor, you know, from when you basically bulldozed me into it."

Next to us, his friend spectated flabbergasted.

Scorpius looked at me with mirrored astonishment, as if not really believing I would have the gall to call him out on his rudeness, "Well I obviously didn't know you were there" he tells me.

I wait for a few seconds, before gesturing with my hands for him to continue. Which just makes him look more confused.

"What?" He asks, copying the (underlying condescending I'll admit) hand movements.

"I'm waiting for you to finish"

"Finish what?"

"Finish your apology?"

"I told you I didn't know you were there." The confusion in his voice starts to turn into anger, not unlike my own. But you know what they say about fighting fire with fire.

"That isn't an apology! You know what, I'm glad I don't know you you, because your manners speak for themselves, and clearly you are just stupid and rude." I'm yelling now, and in my peripherals I can see the room quiet and look towards us as we make a scene.

Before Scorpius can even think of a retort, our respective parent's break through the crowd and quickly pull us apart. "Rosemarie! Apologise this instant young lady!" My mother exclaims.

With a deep and steady breath, I completely ignore the arrogant princes eyes, who at this point looks more entertained then offended, and instead look towards his parents.

"King Draco and Queen Astoria, I'm sincerely sorry for disrupting your party" And I genuinely am, it's not really their fault that their son is a complete baboon.

King Draco lightly pushes his son forward, who quickly makes his way into a low bow. "My Lord and my Lady, I'm sorry if i've caused you any inconvenience." I see he does know how to actually apologise and I also see how he still hasn't seemed to grace me with one.

I decide from that point onwards, I will avoid this obnoxious tool by any means necessary.

* * *

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

hiiieeeeee, i'm sorry the story seems a little slow for now, i just needed to build up the au a bit before getting right into it.

just a heads up, this isn't going to be some grand fantasy pic about royal families, there will obviously be some plot in there, but im just a big scorose fan wanting to mix it up a bit.

 _notes:_  
 _gahdrik: basically the way you pronounce godric_  
 _wisulon: the proto-germanic origin for the word weasel_

i would so love reviews of any kind, or if you guys have any questions or hopes of suggestions  
okay cool yeah well ily cokoa

ﾟ·:*。(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~。*:·ﾟ


	3. Kings Cross International Train Station

Kings Cross International train station was loud and abuzz as masses of the worlds most important people crowded together to farewell their children. One enjoyable thing about the stockpile of royalty and nobles and variety of other miscellaneous rich people is that, for once, we were of no interest to anyone else around us.

A quiet blessing I'm sure, as my Uncle Blaise broke his usually sombre persona, to wish his daughter goodbye. Heartbreak in his eyes, as if he never really thought he would actually have to see her go.

"You know Father always says he doesn't have favourites, but he definitely wasn't tearing up 2 minutes ago when he said his goodbyes to me," Marko says from beside me, his words laced with laughter.

"Well yes, you are the pretty one, so she needs the extra attention," I reply, turning towards my cousin with a grin. Before we could do or say anything else, my mother quickly steals her nephew away, to either smother him in more affection or fret about his appearance.

I don't remember Aunt Daphne, all I know of her is that she and Uncle Blaise married shortly after the war. And although their marriage was short, they really helped each other heal from the shared teen trauma. I don't remember how she looked or what she was like, but I do remember how heartbroken Uncle Blaise was when she died. Marko and I were maybe 6, and I remember we would go weeks at a time without seeing his father. Apparently, after a serious intervention from my parents, my uncle threw himself into diplomatic work. He was a frontier in pushing for refugee and humanitarian work in the muggle colonies affected by the war. It was there he found Selene, abandoned or orphaned, we've never really got the specifics. All we knew is that one day, Uncle Blaise rocked up with a timid little muggle girl, and it's been the three of us since.

It was a surprise to everyone when she started showing signs of magic; my mother was not a crier but that sunny summer afternoon in the Eastern Gardens, she wept of joy for what seemed like hours.

Ever since her sister died, my mother immediately took on the role of the overbearing maternal figure in Markos life and took absolutely no time to adopt Selene as the daughter she always wanted.

Although to outsiders, Queen Astoria Greengrass Malfoy can come off quite aloof, in private she never seems to be lacking in overwhelming devotion.

I had previously thought that the hardest part of preparing for Hogwarts was going to be learning the names of every child with essential networking opportunities for my family and country. I was wrong. That will never be as exhausting or as infuriating as my mothers constant, insistent fretting.

While my cousins took up the adult supervision, I searched through the busy platform crowd to try put faces to the names I've spent the better part of my life learning.

Close by to where my family were gathered stood Aleksandr Tver, Kniaz (Prince) in the Far East, heir to a kingdom where the people are as cold as their climate, and richer than they really need to be. He was sorted into the Ravenclaw house 3 years ago.

Near the front of the train, with her copper skin and tightly curled hair, I spot who I assume is the Gran Duquesa (Grand Duchess) Maria Cristina Cesi from the prestigious Civitella-Cesi royal family. Her family control all major trading routes throughout the Mediterranean. A Hufflepuff student, who is about to start her last year.

Not far from her, is Vidame Charles Valois, a distant relation to his particular sovereign, but second in line to the most fertile farming land in not only his country, Versailles but half of the northern world. A Gryffindor, 5th year, and if the rumours are true, a bit of a prick. Unless you are a Weasley. Well, specifically a Weasley-Delacour, which are the aforementioned sovereigns he is distantly related too.

Which lead into the ridiculously large huddle of red hair and loud laughs in the middle of the train platform.

The first one I notice in the large group is the dauphin of Versailles, and heir to the throne, Fleur Isabelle Weasley Delacour who is married to High Prince William Arthur Weasley, Heir Apparent of Wisulon. I've always found their coupling to be an odd one; since Versailles is notoriously extravagant and unnecessarily lavish. In comparison to them, Wisulon is barely a country. Which is famous for nothing but it's humility, compassion and Weasley Wheezes. A joke store franchise which must be the only reason the country is still afloat at this point.

The only kind of "abundance" they have is their heap of family members.

Prince William and Princess Fleur have 3 children; the eldest, Victorie, is head girl this year at Hogwarts and a few years under her, is Dominique. It's to be said that, when the time comes, Victorie will inherit the crown for Wisulon, and Dominique for Versailles. It's insane to me that the eldest would choose the poorer of the two, but apparently, it suits them just fine. And then there is Louis, currently in his second year. After them comes a bunch of forgettable people, none in line for any kind of throne, though all assumed to join the courts of either Victorie Weasley, Dominique Weasley or James Potter.

The Potter family from Gahdrik just adds more unnecessary complexity to their already exuberant family line. If they weren't so overwhelmingly modest, you could claim they are setting out to start an empire; trying to fill the world of vile, redundant, loud-mouthed redheads.

Admittedly, that may not be an entirely accurate representation of them as a whole, but maybe just a lingering warped impression from an unpleasant firecracker 2 years ago.

She stood right in the middle of her enormous family, looking only slightly different than when I last saw her. She stood next to whom I assume is Albus Potter from his mess of raven hair, and oversized glasses, second in line at Gahdrik, and talked animatedly about something I couldn't hear.

Her parents were close beside her, her father tall and broad, his pale skin bringing out his masses of freckles. Her mother a stark contrast to her husband, with her coffee coloured skin, and her thick array of tight curls that framed around her face. Somehow Rose Weasley seemed to fit somewhere in between the two. Her skin was a more tan, instead of the deep colour her mother had. Her face sprinkled in freckles, and her hair a light strawberry, with loose curls. Although the masses on her head where still quietly defying the laws of gravity, her hair flowed where her mothers more flourished. She sat, so in between her two parents; every feature of her containing a bit of both of them.

Strangely, I can't seem to take my eyes off her. Honestly, she really isn't even that pretty. Like I guess, yeah, if you look at her with squinted eyes she can be a little cute. But there are countless girls on this platform alone that are leagues above her. Merlin knows that even compared to some of her cousins- she's a bit of a bore. I probably can't stop looking at her because I can't forget about how atrocious her personality was.

As the whistle blew, my cousins and I gave our final goodbyes and quickly made our way onto the Hogwarts express. Rushing into the first empty cart we could find, we finally allowed ourselves to relish in finally being free from our loving, but overbearing parental figures.

"You were sorta staring at the Weasley girl on that platform Scorp. You know, the one you pushed over at the Embassy Ball years ago?" Marko starts. "What was her name? Daisy?"

"As if. I was just zoning out in her direction I guess." Biting my tongue in correcting him on her name. He didn't need to know how much of an impression she made on me all those years ago. "I don't know why she's even here. She barely a princess."

"Scorpius you know that isn't true. Her father is the son of King Arthur and Queen Molly of Wisulon." Selene says softly.

"Yeah, the 5th son. And with all the kids that family pops out, you know Prince Ron will never take the throne. He's lucky he was befriended by 'the chosen one', or he'd never have amounted to anything. He's nothing more than a General Commander in the end, so I don't see what the point is in his kids having royal titles."

"That's very rude Scorpius." Selene tries to interrupt me saying, but my irritation seems to have gotten the better of me.

"Like, what's the point in her even coming to Hogwarts. She won't really inherit a title, and Circe knows she's too ugly to marry up the food chain, and from what I remember from her personality, she's too vile to even make friends in high places. Rose Weasley would be nothing if not for nepotism." I know I've gone too far when Selene suddenly stands up, storming to the carriage door, with her hand on the handle she turns and faces me, cheeks flushed in anger.

"I will not listen to you talk like this about someone you don't even know. It's not right" and with a push, she slams open the door, for us to see the devil herself, Rose Weasley standing right outside of the door. A hand raised as if she was just about to knock on the door. She looks me right in the eye, and even I can't help but feel guilty when I see tears there

"Prick" She mutters under her breathe, as she quickly runs away.

* * *

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

hiiieeeeee

i'm so ridiculous sorry that this update has been so long coming. not to get too ridiculously personal, but i just came out of a terrible breakup with my boyfriend of 5 years, and have been **majorly** unhappy about everything i've written. i've really tried to get back into things to pick myself up again, but i am so sorry if things are a bit of a mess.

okay cool yeah well ily cokoa

ﾟ·:*。(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~。*:


	4. Louis' Party

I couldn't breathe. It was taking all my effort to keep my legs stable. I could feel at any second my knees would give out under me. "Piss Off Al, you're too big to piggyback."

"But Rosie, with Quidditch and Swordsmanship, my legs hurt so much."

Before I could say anything else, I start to feel him lean forward with a laugh, and we both end up collapsing onto the ground.

As ridiculous and heavy he has come to be, I still can't help but treasure moments alone with Al. Although we do see each other all the time around the castle, it required lots of adjustment when he was sorted into Slytherin in our first year. We went from spending every second of every day together at Gahdrik castle, to catching glimpses of each other at lessons and lunches.

Of course, it comes with its highs and lows. Highs coming from the effervescent group of friends I have been able to find in Hogwarts. Growing up, our family was always too busy to organise play dates with others, so it's refreshing to spend time with people who don't have freckles on their face for once. The lows, however, have been the unfortunate friends Albus has picked up along the way. Like Crown Prince Scorpius Malfoy, who is as insufferable and irritating as he was during our first meeting as children. Or his cousin, who I can admit has been on rare occasion quite funny, but alas Marko Zabini's humour is overshadowed with his inability to restrain himself from flirting with anything that moves.

So, I enjoy this rare moment of solitude with the two of us, as we lie in the courtyard, looking up at the clouds.

"Are you coming to Louis' party tonight?" Al asks.

When Albus and I started in Hogwarts, we followed a long line of Weasleys and Potters who have made quite a mark for themselves. Louis, like his older sister Dominique, became quickly notorious for his lavish, often scandalous parties. A trait they definitely picked up from their Mum's side. Although the rest of us cousins haven't inherited their natural eye for extravagance and overt materialism, we have quickly adapted to enjoying the benefits. Many of us ended up split throughout the four Hogwarts houses, and would often use 'catching up with loved ones' as a weak excuse for the grand soirees. A weak excuse especially for Roxanne, Molly and Dom, who are all seventh year Gryffindors, and spend every waking hour together regardless. Only slightly more understandable for James, Fred and Louis, who although all being in their sixth year, were split between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin respectively. (Not that it really mattered, all of them would spend copious amounts of time in each other's common rooms anyway.)

"Depends on who will be there" I respond.

"Scorp will obviously be there, it is his common room." Al sighs, "You know, he really is pretty cool if you gave him a chance."

"I doubt it" I groan, getting up from the grass. "But I'll probably be there anyway."

* * *

There's a level of extravagance one has to meet to satisfy a mob of the world's most prestigious teenagers. When you grow up with all your adolescent whims met, you start to develop high standards in what you deem entertaining. Even though not every student at Hogwarts comes from wealthy and prosperous kingdoms, it doesn't take very long to adapt to the culture of luxuriousness most of the pupils live and breathe.

"Your cousin is a show-off." Capheus Thomas says beside me. The boy leading me through the crowd is a far cry from the short, chubby boy I met in my first year. Over our last summer, he shot up a whole head taller than me and apparently spending the last year training on the Gryffindor quidditch team has managed to tone up his previously plump figure.

Walking through the crowded common room, I can't help but notice the way girls track his dark frame. Nor could I ignore the stares at the hand he keeps on my lower back, keeping me close to him as we try to break through the throng of already intoxicated students. Little do they know, he only has eyes for one person, and they're certainly not a loud-mouthed smart-arsed freckle-faced Weasley. Not that I mind, as problematic as it is, I've never been one to crush on the likely and easy to love.

To my other side, scanning through the crowd with wide eyes stands Samuel Brocklehurst. His long blonde hair is tied into a messy bun, high on his head, and strands start to fall out as he flicks his head left and right in search of someone. Even though he himself is handsome in the way those with excessive wealth always seem to be, and we spend most of our time together, no one ever questions his interest in me. Especially not when he catches the eye of some poor boy in the crowd who he no doubt has decided to lay his claim on tonight.

Surveying the room, I'd have to agree with Capheus about Louis being a bit of a show-off. Around us, the Slytherin common room looks ethereal. High on the roof, twinkling magical lights sparkle, as if you could see straight through to the night sky. The lights reflect on the water coming through the wall to ceiling windows, bathing the room in a green hue, and alighting the view into the Great Lake.

The walls are covered in ornate floral arrangements, hanging above stacks of crystal glasses filled with shimmering liquid that promised impropriety. With little hesitation, the three of us make our way to the glimmering tower of drinks and decide that maybe for the night, we could lose ourselves to the lavishness.

I spend the night bouncing between circles while taking long generous sips of my glass. After a while, I take a quiet opportunity of solitude to examine the room around me.

Not far from one of the assorted drink tabes is my 5th year Gryffindor dorm mate, Alessandra Longbottom, who adorably has had far too much, far too quickly. Taking full advantage of how different the parties are to the usual soirees in her father's famous gardens.

In the far corner of the room, seventh year Slytherin Yi Jiang has planted herself happily on the couches. Yi and my own cousin Dominique enjoy the variety of sweet pastries available, pairing them with their elderflower wine as they whisper sweet devious nothings in each other's ears.

On the other side of the room, fifth-year Ravenclaw Matthias Corner is having a winning streak at cards. Every hand he plays results in large cheers from the spectators surrounding the table. Much to his housemate Ororo Iquadi's dismay, as she scrunches together her beautiful, night coloured face every time she glances at her cards. Sweet Selene Zabini, Hufflepuff's golden child, doesn't seem to mind her ever-dwindling pile of coin as she laughs and claps along at the others players success'. She also doesn't seem to notice how both Ororo and Matthias' eyes linger on her or how they put coins back into her humble stack whenever she isn't paying attention.

Capheus has found his way over to Albus. The two seem to be having an intense debate on our houses upcoming quidditch match. Both seem to forget that they're holding tumblers of dragon barrel brandy, the liquids haphazardly swishing around their glasses, as they speak with more passion than they really need too.

The walls of my vision are starting to blur, and I can't but help think that maybe, just maybe I've had a bit too much to drink.

"Hey baby," A voice says from behind me "Wanna dance?" I turn to find Aleksandr Tver, looking at me with a promise of mischief. The beatiful Ravenclaw, is notorious for being a bit of a tosser, but you can't deny he's a gorgeous tosser. Especially under the influence, I can't help but admire his large frame or his raven hair, cropped short and faded to perfection or his hazel eyes that now stare at me, hazed and dangerous. Somewhere in the back of my head, I know that I should say no. I know that this delicious desperately sought after seventh-year has never looked twice in my direction, and there is definitely some kind of hidden agenda here but still, regardless of the alarm bells, I lift my hand and place it into his.

He leads me onto the makeshift dance floor in the centre of the room. Modern music fills the space, the kind of songs that you would never listen to with your mother around. Proven more so by the array of students that grind and swelter on each other; a far cry the lithe and languid nobles I study with through the week.

Alek's body is warm behind me as he places a hand on my hip and starts to move my body in time with his. A sudden wave of dizziness hits me, and I'm unsure if it's the rhythm or the alcohol that's making my body sway. From the blur of my own thoughts, I start to process Alek's lips making contact with my throat. With little grace or momentum, his light caresses, quickly turn to wet, messy kisses, as he makes his way to the nape of my neck.

"When did you get so beautiful little Roza?" He whispers to me, "How pure and unblemished you are" The statement reminds me that this is indeed foreign situation to me. Coming back from summer a few weeks ago, it was clear to see that many of my fellow fifth year's have done lots of _maturing_. I myself couldn't ignore the sudden growth in my chest, or how my small waist seems to now lead into full hips. It required a whole new wardrobe before school, all my old clothes looking too small and mismatched on me. It was overwhelming how so much had changed in such a short period of time. Even now, knowing months ago the idea of it would've disgusted me, I can't help but enjoy the way Alek lightly bites on my ear or the feel of his calloused hand exploring my midriff.

"Sweet little Roza, what an accolade you are." He sighs, so quietly I can barely hear him.

"You talk about me like I'm some kind of prize," I say, slowly growing aggravated by Aleks strange motivation.

"What's more of a prize than a beautiful, untouched bloom." Alek murmurs to me. "So clean and tempting" he continues, as his hand makes his way higher up my body.

The statement is so misogynistic it immediately sobers my train of thought, deciding this is just about enough; but unfortunately, the sobering doesn't quite reach the rest of my body. I try to move away from his hold but it results in me tripping over my feet, back into his arms. Giving him the wrong impression entirely as he grips tighter onto waist, digging his growing firmness into my backside. A heavy hotness starts to grow in the pit of my stomach, a part of me enjoying the sensation of being wanted in such a primal way. A newfound craving starts to develop within me, but I know for sure, regardless of how much I ache satisfaction, I'm not wanting any help from this creepy git whispering about being unblemished and virginal.

"I think it might be about time to piss off, Tver." A voice comes from behind us. As we turn to face the speaker, I choose to blame the alcohol for the light-headedness that comes upon me. If Aleksandr Tver is a gorgeous tosser, then Scorpius Malfoy could only be described as an awe-inspiring twat. Where Alek is handsome, Scorpius is simply devastating.

Dressed to casual magnificence, his white linen shirt is delightfully unbuttoned, showing peaks of his toned torso. His light, silver-hued, hair now styled to that place of messiness that leaves girls wondering how it'll look threaded through their fingers. Through our last five years in Hogwarts, he has grown into his long limbs, spending the last three years filling his frame with muscle and brawn from Quidditch. Even the baby fat that once filled his cheeks has since been replaced by striking cheekbones and his jawline, so pronounced, I wonder if I'll cut my tongue if I run my lips across it.

It's so unfortunate that he is the absolute bane of my existence. Even so, regardless of his disregard for others, his overinflated ego, his outdated perspective of class or his over encompassing arrogance, I can't help but be grateful for his sudden arrival.

"Piss off, Malfoy." Alek replies, "We're in the middle of something".

"Well Weasley promised me a dance," Malfoy responds, the lie coming off his tongue so easily, I almost believed it myself. "You guys can keep fucking in the middle of the dance floor afterwards."

Before Alek could even respond, I allow Malfoy to grab my wrist and lead me away.

"I didn't need you to save me," I tell him, trying to ignore how the pulsing in the pit of my stomach is progressively getting more insistent as Malfoy's grip on my wrist tightens.

With a deep breath, he moves his encompassing frame in front of mine. Although I am certainly not the shortest girl around, his oversized body seems so large, it's almost as if he engulfs me, needing me to push my neck back to look up into his eyes. Using what is left of my brain and pride to force myself to stare at him with the same degree of vigour. His hand makes its way from my wrist to my hips and I notice for the first time, the foggy look in his ocean coloured gaze as he peers down at me. Staring down at me so intensely, I feel like I could drown in him. "Just shut up and dance with me, Weasley"

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

hiiieeeeee

so much love to violettsl, baronnis & the chirpy bitch for your reviews! they were so lovely and honestly motivated me so much. you guys are so beautiful and i love you guys so much.

i'm sorry for the wait for this one, i wrote one so long, i had to break it up in two, so the next chapter will be up very very soon, and it'll be continuing right after this one lets off! would appreciate any kind of reviews! good, bad and random!

okay cool yeah well ily cokoa

ﾟ·:*。(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~。*:


End file.
